Chapter 19 Samantha
SAMANTHA
Thirty minutes, and nine gowns later, I spin in front of a gold-framed mirror. The Christian Dior gown is beyond classy. It is black, it has style, and it is timeless.
“Too hot?” I ask, spinning.
“Too sexy,” I hear from Husky, once Grumpy, in the corner.
“It’s not sexy, what’s with you?” I ask, confused. Our eyes meet, and I raise a brow.
“Look, if you got out every now and then, you’d be less, you know, all fired up and finding anything hot…”
Grumpy growls like a caged wolf.
“I’m just saying,” I tease him. “I have a few friends in town. They could help you out.”
Our eyes meet, and his go dark. He walks up behind me, and we look at each other in the mirror. “I will not fuck any of your friends to, you know, calm down or whatever.”
I sigh inside, feeling relieved. It was a weird bluff and stupid of me. Harry steps closer, close enough to kiss my neck. “I don’t want your friends.”
Before I can say anything, I feel him closer. His hands then rest on my hips. Our eyes meet in the mirror, and he is ready. Ready to take me. I lean back and feel his chest. Our eyes hold, and I know this is it.
Kiss my neck.
Kiss my neck.
Kiss my neck.
“May I help?” a voice calls out.
I jump, and we turn as one, the electricity gone.
We then recheck my gown in the mirror. “Shall we get it?” I ask.
Harry is back, standing calmly behind me. I like it, and he looks hot in his suit. As he nods, I smile and pull my hair aside. “If you will?”
I feel his warm hands on my neck and back. They feel just like last time. Just like that night. Electricity sparks, and it runs along my neck, across my chest, and to my breasts and nipples. As I look into the mirror, I watch him slowly unzip my dress.
He adjusts his fingertips on my neck to keep me in position. He then slides the fine zip down more. It feels divine, and I am in heaven.
Ever so slowly, he zips the dress down. Finally, it is down all the way. I am not wearing a bra, and one of my arms covers my full breasts.
Below, the dress has gathered at my butt. I am not wearing panties, and I know he can now see.
As I hear him growl, I lift my chin. He can have me here and now; he can have me against the wall.
I turn, holding the gown up with one hand as I cover by breasts with the other.
Our eyes are locked, and no one is moving.
Slowly, I step behind a gold swing door, and our eyes are still locked and holding. As I let the gown drop to the plush white carpet, I step from it. I am completely naked, but I am completely hidden.
“Please?” I ask, crouching and handing the dress to him.
Harry is now aware I am completely naked and completely shaven like before.
He holds my gaze as he takes the gown.
I pull on my black lace thong and matching bra. We do not break eye contact, and I pull up my black leather trousers.
After, I yank on the tight black T-shirt. My nipples are hard, and his eyes are dark. Electricity is sparking as I play with him and play with us.
It is as hot as F, and I am wet.
Finally, I walk out with my shoes on and touch his perfect jaw. I run a long finger along it and close his mouth. Harry shakes his head and closes his eyes. “You horrific tease.”
I smile inside, but I keep my outer look cold.
It was pure theater, and it was all me. I give him a wink, and I do it slowly. “Two can play at entertainment,” I say. “You do not own the space.”
Harry shakes his head and ushers me out. “Out, now.”
As I wait nearby, I study black velvet chokers. I then watch him finish paying and receive the stunning gown in its bag.
Harry then eye-fucks me, and he does it all the way to the door. There, he holds it open for me.
I take his arm again, and we swan down Rodeo Drive for his limo.
I smile in the warm Beverly Hills sun. I adore the sun, and I am adoring my day. Out of the blue, he growls, “Do you think all stowaways get the same treatment?”
“No, just me,” I say as he opens my door. I smile, and I slide in. Into his life, and into what is becoming ours.
As we drive through Beverly Hills and I put the new shoe box on the ground, Harry explains we are staying at the famous Beverly Hills Hotel. I have heard of it, and it is classy.
Actually, classy as heck. Famous stars stay there, and some while shooting actual movies.
I protest at first, but Harry says he needs to know I am safe and know we have privacy.
He refuses to let me pay for myself, and again, I am relieved. He then tells me it’s for my acting fee for tonight and that I better be good.
I give him another look, and his eyes darken. Darken like they did in the changing room, when I teased him. Teased him with my body.
As we enter the hotel property, Harry tells me it’s old Hollywood, classy, and private. Also, that he always stays here.
I have no issues with the choice; it’s truly spectacular.
I drove by it once, years back, and I wondered how stunning it would be. Now, I will find out.
We check in and find our large suites are next to each other. Thank God there is no linking door. Well, no door I can unlock.
After showering and dressing in the classy suite, I work hard on my hair and face. I run with smokey eyes, and I give my hair body.
Finally, I feel like a million dollars and I feel electric, as if for once, my life is finding flow.
Weirdly, and on time, I leave my room.
As I walk out my door, and it closes, I gasp. Harry is leaning against the wall, wearing a black suit and bow tie.
His eyes are devilish, and he looks just like an old movie star. He is magnificent.
“Well, would you look at you?” he says before whistling in a classy manner.
I lift my chin and strut down the hall, unable to stop grinning at him. “Why, thank you, Sir.”
Harry smells amazing and he looks impeccable.
He puts his arm out, and we glide down the hall for the elevator. The shoes that we stopped for were worth it, and they match the black gown perfectly.
They are also comfortable, and considering their design, I am amazed.
Being surrounded by the many elevator mirrors gives me a chance to check us out.
“Not too bad,” I say.
“Indeed, and thanks again,” my date for the evening says huskily.
“The night is not over yet,” I say, patting his firm chest. “You, Sir, may hate me by the end of it.”
Harry shakes his head theatrically. “And just when I thought all was okay.”
I laugh playfully. “You cannot fool me, Sir. You like a bit of danger in your life.”
“I dislike surprises, my dear. And I dislike them terribly.”
“Maybe,” I say, spinning, “But I. Am. Special.”
“You. Are. Mischief.”
Harry watches me, and then he reaches into his pocket. “I almost forgot.” He slowly lifts out a spectacular, thick, and heavy diamond necklace.
It looks like its settings are pure gold, and the diamonds are large. The piece is unbelievable. There are also three strange golden or yellow diamonds embedded in the front.
It’s either real and worth a small country, or it is the most over-the-top fake I’ve ever seen.
“Harry.”
“It never comes out, and well, it was Mother’s.” My eyes are wide, and I’m astounded.
“Don’t worry, the velvet box is in my suite’s safe. Turn.” I do, and Harry lifts his hands near my neck again. “May I?”
“Of course,” I say, watching the incredible necklace being placed around my neck. As I look up, our eyes meet, and they hold. I am close to tears, and I gulp.
“And it is real, if you think it’s rather over the top.” I warm, and Harrison smiles. He is a kind man when he is not cold, grumpy, arrogant, and well, dark. Dark and commanding. He removes his hands, and I step closer to the mirror. “Well?”
I spin back to Harry, glowing. Harrison beams and he looks emotional for once. “You look beautiful, and my mother would be happy to see it out.”
“I’ll look after it!” I say, touching it, almost beyond words.
Harry smiles, and for once, he looks truly free and himself.
“I’m sure you will, but it is insured.” He then mumbles low, “For, oddly, more than the chateau.”
I gulp, and I suspect he is right. The rocks are truly heavy. I feel special for once, and I feel worthy.
Not my gross, under-confident self. And not my overly curvy nervous self.
I step up close to Harrison, and I do all I can to not put my hands around his neck. It is hard. The hardest thing in the world.
“You know, for a big old grump, you’re actually kind of… nice.”
I raise a fancy made-up eyebrow, and Harry looks like he’s about to step forward and kiss me. My stomach flips, and I lean in.
I know I will hold the back of his head when he does, and I’ve so missed his lips on mine. Also, him pulling my hair, and hard, from behind.
As Harry puts his hands on my hips, our eyes meet and we both lean in.
Suddenly the doors open, and a bell hop clears his throat. “Sorry, Sir. Madam.”
The moment is gone, and astounded, I double-blink. Harry extends an arm, and he is very cool under pressure.
“After you, dear.”